The Bristle
by PlaguedAmbition
Summary: Sometimes things just happen, other times you can get swept up in a blur of passion and recklessness.


There is a point in every relationship; where the subject of trying different things comes up, experimenting with new things to draw you closer. Temari recalled when their experiment may have taken a bizarre turn. She had taken to calling it 'The Bristle.'

Temari never considered the thought that her night would get out; that it would spread like a rampant torrent of flames through the busy streets of their home. She felt their eyes on her form, judging her, shaming her.

She felt her heart race, her clothing constricting, binding her as eyes roamed her body, trying to pry into her deepest, most hidden sections. Temari didn't like to be spread out for all to see. She did not like this type of abuse, this scrutiny. It reminded her of when she was seen as the Kazekage's daughter, not herself.

This, all of this, was his fault. His messy hair, his smoke filled breath, his lazy demeanor, all of it, all of what made him who he was, made him the man she loved, all of it lead to this; to these stares that ripped her naked.

Her fingers toiled, clamping down on the fabric that coiled around her waist.

Her heart fluttered, his voice a weak mutter, drawing her further and further from the street. His arm reached, tangling around her hip and drawing her from her feet. Her mind was swept against her will, turn around and carried, tight against his chest, her arms tried to thrash out, though now matter how hard she bashed; she found herself laid out on the bed.

Skin staining red, cheeks burning and her lip's quiver stilled by gnawing teeth. Temari gazed up into the eyes of him: lazy, dull, a tint of playfulness, yet despite that, she could feel the torrent of thoughts that whirled through them.

The sheets below became bundled, crumpled in her fists. A glint filled his eye, one that she knew well, it spoke to her on a level that she understood, tonight would be long, tonight would be troublesome; It'd ruin her for tomorrow, maybe the day after.

Her hair would become as frantic and disheveled as her heart. Temari's back arched, Shikamaru's arm scooping her up and drawing her into the air. Her frame became weightless at his touch, everything inside her floating, crashing unto another, sinking, rocking, soaring. There was no word that could do justice to the tirade and kerfuffle of tyranny that gripped her. That owned her.

There was no word, no sound that she was able to utter, the toothbrush closed in. Too caught up in her shock, she couldn't move. It came closer and closer, prying into her mouth, the bristle dragging softly along her gum.

A place she'd kept so guarded, so defensible, had been broken into. She jolted, her composure faltered, and twisted as the cold plastic touched her tongue. It was a sensation she'd felt twice a day for nearly every day of her life. Yet when it was him—someone not her—that was doing it; she couldn't control herself.

Stuck now, in a body that didn't belong to her, the tingling skin she'd know her whole life betrayed her, binding her tight in a prison of her own sensations. Her toes curled, eyes fluttered and drool dripped from her mouth like warm butter.

He spoke, her frenzied thoughts not able to pull them apart, to connect the meanings to sounds, but his smile; she understood his smile. Temari's body was lowered to the bed, his hand skirting up her leg, brushing tentatively across her sand stricken skin.

She gasped, blinked and shook her head. The thoughts that lingered begun to fade. Temari's back was pressed tight against the wall behind her; chest heaving, breaths ragged, and floundering. They grew to a taper before easing. Her mind still swirling as a hand clamped down on her shoulder. It drew her focus, bright green eyes looking at her in confusion.

"Temari, are you feeling okay?" The concerned voice of Sakura broke through to her, but did little to halt the blinking of her eyes; a futile attempt to clear the haze that had clouded her vision.

"I'm fine, really. Just got a little lost in thought."

"If you say so…" Sakura trailed, her vision darting to either side, taking everything in and making sure they were alone, "Between us girls, is it good?"

Temari swallowed, pushing down her thoughts and meeting the curious gaze. "Is what good?"

"You know, the toothbrush thing?"

Her mouth went dry and her lip quivered. Eyes darting to the ground, not wanting to meet anyone else. "I-, how do you know?"

"Sai told Ino, and well, you know Ino. I thought it was pretty strange, so I thought I'd ask you."

Temari rubbed at her temples, the wall at her back feeling colder than ever. "This is going to stay with me isn't it?"

Sakura gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know, we're all adults, so it should be fine."

"You just told me that Ino blurted it out to you. How the hell do you expect me to treat you like an adult?"

"Hey Temari, make sure you brush twice a day okay?" Sakura snickered, her lips pulled up on either side.

Temari drew back the snarky comment that wanted to be released. She thought back to the night, while strange, she had spent it fully content. Comforted and refreshed; an entire night spent with only herself and Shikamaru.

No work, no problems, no worries. It was just her and him, a night where they could be themselves, and while it maybe have been strange; she could treasure those memories. Who cared what the others thought, so long as she could revel in those tender moments, just maybe not in public again.

"I'll try to keep that in mind. I might even go three times." Temari waved and turned on her feet, she had a man to tell off, and drag back to bed.

* * *

 **PA: Something short and sweet. I wish you luck with whatever you're doing.  
**


End file.
